I will watch over you
by KeikoHPfan
Summary: Mini-sequel of sorts to "Sleep tight, love" , written as a gift for NinjaGrapeTurtle. Charlie and Harry's first Christmas as a married couple... nothing goes as planned. It can probably be read as a one shot, though. Slash, HP/CW.


**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic)

**AN:** this is a mini-sequel of sorts to "Sleep tight, love" , written as a gift for NinjaGrapeTurtle who let the 300th review on this story. It can probably be read as a one shot, though.

Her prompt was "first Christmas as a married couple for Harry and Charlie".

It didn't turn out the way I planned it to, but I couldn't get rid of this idea, and I quite like it now... I hope you'll like it as well! Beware the fluff!

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry sighs and brushes a lone strand of red hair out of Charlie's face. He tries to get more comfortable on the bed, but those things are truly designed for one person, and Charlie is by no mean small. His hands are resting on the covers, their strength and their lovely tan hidden under thick and white bandages.

Harry fingers his husband's ring distractedly. It's too big for him, even if he has put it on his thumb. His own ring is smaller and thinner – just like himself. Harry suddenly feels like crying and he carefully arranges himself around Charlie's body, burying his face in the crook of his husband's neck. He breathes in the earthy scent of the man he loves so much, and tries to will his tears away. He won't cry. He can't, and he won't. Not now.

They should have known that everything had gone too smoothly. They should have been more cautious, because, hell, Harry should have known it couldn't last. But Charlie's joyful and careless way to enjoy life is contagious and Harry has let himself be swept away by his own happiness. From their bonding in the Burrow's ugly and lovely garden to their first months as a married couple in Romania, everything has been so perfect, so good. Too good to be true, probably. Harry's apprenticeship with Lena keeps him busy but satisfied, and knowing that he has now a home with Charlie nearly makes him pinch himself in disbelief several times a day.

And then there was Christmas. Harry begins to think he'll hate Christmas now. Last year had been bad enough, with all the crazy fans sending him unwanted presents and all the fights with the Weasleys, but this year...

Not that they didn't enjoy it. Molly had outdone herself, piling more food on the kitchen table than the poor old thing seemed able to hold. Everyone was there, everyone seemed happy enough, and they lit a candle for Fred before sitting down to enjoy dinner together. They laughed and teased and had too much to drink. And Harry had mused that it felt good, to finally belong to a family, and he had snuggled a bit more to Charlie in front of the fire as they enjoyed a late hot chocolate before heading to bed.

Christmas morning had come, and Harry had found more presents at the foot of his bed than they could ever need, and after a slow making-out session with Charlie, they had begun to open the gifts. One of Harry's one, wrapped in brown paper and looking small and insignificant, had caught his eye and he had picked it first.

Charlie had taken it away from him before he could completely open it, and the thing had exploded between his strong hands, a disgusting looking grey goo sticking to the redhead's skin. The rest happened in a blur, and Harry barely remembers Ron pushing him out of the way to grab his brother, and Hermione's hand in his as they Flooed to St Mungo's. And here they are, Charlie sleeping on that wretched hospital bed, his body too still because of the Sleeping Draught and various Pains Potions the Mediwizards fed him earlier, and Harry, who has refused to leave his side as the rest of the family has been sent home with the promise that Charlie would be just fine.

Harry has briefly thought to Floo to the Ministry and harass the Aurors in charge of the case, but in the end he couldn't bear the thought of leaving his husband's side. What if Charlie wakes up alone? What if he needs something? It's Harry's fault to begin with and-

No. Charlie would be very upset if he knew what Harry's thinking. It's not his fault. He has done nothing wrong. Harry sits up on the bed and breathes deeply to calm himself. It's only the perpetrator's fault. No one else's. Not his, not Charlie's, not anyone else's. One of Charlie's hand twitches slightly and Harry tries to crush the familiar feel of guilt inside of him, the bitter taste of it leaving him slightly nauseous. Blaming himself will do nothing, though. What will help is being there for Charlie, and then, making sure the idiot who's hurt them is thoroughly and publicly destroyed. Harry would gladly make him pay through not so legal means, but he has to make his point – hurt what's mine and I'll make sure you'll wish you'd never been born - , and therefore he has to do it openly. Pity.

"Hey."

"Charlie? Merlin, how do you feel?"

"Numb."

"Well, actually you shouldn't be awake so soon. I should call for someone, to check if-"

"'M alright. Don't want to see anyone else just now. Just you."

Harry can't help but smile at Charlie's pout. The redhead is obviously a bit confused from all the potions in his system, and it's downright adorable.

"They said it wouldn't scar. Your hands will be just fine in a few hours."

"Good." Charlie suddenly grins mischievously. "Need them, you know."

"Your hands? Well, yes, I guess so. You're not making much sense, love."

"Need them to touch you, I mean. To make you do all those lil' noises."

"You're unbelievable."

Harry bents down to kiss his smirking husband, but Charlie turns his head away.

"Don't. Probably have a mean dragon breath just now."

"I don't care."

A few breathless moments later, Harry rests his head on Charlie's strong shoulder with a content sigh.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For ruining our first Christmas as a couple. As husbands."

"'s not your fault. And it's not... ruined."

Charlie says 'ruined' as it is a very strange word, his face scrunched up into a frown. Harry bits his lip. Merlin, how he loves that man. Sometimes it scares him a little.

"Well you can't say you wanted to spend Christmas day in hospital."

"Wanted to spend Christmas with you."

"I'm sorry."

"'m not. I'm with you."

"Oh." Harry closes his eyes and turns his head a little, kissing Charlie's jaw softly. "I love you."

"Love you too. Wish I could move, though."

"Why? D'you need something?"

"Yes."

"What is it? Are you in pain? Tell me, love."

"Need you. But I can't move."

Harry leans back with a snort.

"You're insatiable."

"That's your fault."

"How so?"

"You're too hot. Make me want you all the time."

Charlie yawns loudly and Harry chuckles quietly, trailing his fingers on his husband's cheek.

"You should rest now. I'll watch over you."

Charlie hums, his eyes already closed, and Harry settles back on the strong shoulder.

Tomorrow will be about getting mad and hunting the gift's sender down and fighting with Charlie about the way to go about it.

But today is about taking care of Charlie. Today is about love and family and sickeningly sweet words.

It's Christmas, after all.


End file.
